Trading Post

I've been offline for the least few weeks...it's much easier to keep up my blog when I'm miserable and lonesome. It's more difficult when I have much, much better things to do with my time. So, let's update...I'm sure you're all dying to know where I've been.


WELL.

I'm taken. off the market. Completely and utterly head over heels crazy wonderful fantastic terrifyingly hopefully and brilliantly dating this Guy. Guy has, as Randy would observe whilst giving notes on his singing, the Wow-Factor. we've been seeing each other for about a month, and it's damn hard to sit at a computer and blog when I could be Guy-hugging. Reader-san, the only downside is that I feel like a dingus for living here for 4 years before asking him out. What was I thinking? He was HERRE the whole TIME. I have so much time to make up for....

The tradeoff of being T-t-taken, however, is that my friendly relationships with other gentlemens have to change. I don't really feel comfortable with casual flirting anymore. Several boys have taken this change without an ounce of grace. Although I care deeply for these men, um, they can't handle the friendship thing. The one person who I was actually worried about, Sage, ironically made this shift very easy for me.

He told me I was ruining my dog.

Now is the time to applaud me for holding back from kicking his ass.

Yes, he told me, during a brief conversation on the sidewalk, that I was ruining my dog. With poor training. Or not enough love for the puppy. I don't remember exactly. I DO remember thinking that he should die, die slowly. Sage has never cared for another living creature, by choice, in his life. He doesn't LIKE unnecessary interaction with society or nature. I've taken care of crazy people, dying loved ones, and multiple sweet pets whom I LOVE. I've eased pain and dried tears and chosen, yes, chosen, to remain close when it was freakin' painful to do so.

And, for the record, my Cormac is very happy, healthy, and taking to training like a pro. Ask anyone, mutherfucker.



Yeah, it sucks to give up the gents I used to hang out with in mutually single days. For a second or two, at least. Then I remeber, of course, I have Dante and Cormac and Guy in my house! Guy!!!! Guy!!!!!!! Y'all have no IDEA how much I adore that man! Imagine a lovely asian garden adorned with kittens and puppys in 1890 Londoners' formalwear, having tea and singing showtunes. That's *nearly* as wonderful as Guy.

Gross, right? Sorry, reader-san. I'll try, despite the sdorableness. to regain my sass and cynicism. Wish me luck.